A Christmas Story
by chariots99
Summary: Christmas. That wonderful time of year where everything seems to go wrong, only to turn out awfully right. Warning: uses characters from my previous stories.
1. Jack Starbright

_Merry Christmas everyone!_

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Christmas.

For years, Alex had felt mixed emotions about that wonderful time of the year. When his uncle was there, it was perfect. When his uncle wasn't...well, it wasn't perfect. After all, no uncle meant no presents under the Christmas tree. And really, that was how Alex figured out that Santa wasn't real.

But then, they had met Jack Starbright.

With a temper to match her flaming red hair, quick wit to match Ian's MI6 trained ones, and a naturally loving nature, the over-enthusiastic housekeeper had quickly wormed her way into both Ian's and young Alex's hearts.

And she had brought the Christmas spirit back into the Rider household.

Currently, Jack Starbright was alone. It wasn't the first Christmas she had speant by herself, and she doubted that it would be the last. Ian Rider was gone. Murdered. And young Alex...well, he wasn't so young anymore. The eighteen year old was off in some other country, saving the world like he always did. But this time, neither Ben nor Rose were with him, which meant much more worry on Jack's part.

So here she was, celebrating Christmas by herself.

Jack sighed, looking around the lonely home. Pictures hung on each wall. Jack remembered each and every one.

There was a picture of Alex's first Christmas with her. The boy was so young, so _innocent. _He had just lost his front teeth. Jack smiled as she remembered that day. Young Alex had been complaining so much because he couldn't "chew anything, and it hurts!". But he had been totally fine when it came to the enormous cake Jack had gone out and bought for that special occasion. Well, she had kinda missed the boy's birthday that year, since she had only been hired several months afterwards.

There was cake smeared all over young Alex's face. It had been in her hair too, Jack remembered. It had taken almost an hour to get that mess out. But it had been worth it, just to see the boy smiling. He had woken up so sad when he realised that his uncle was on another "business" trip. God, she had been so..._angry_ at Ian Rider that day.

Next to that picture was another, of the first Christmas the three had spent together. There was Alex, sitting amongst a pile of wrapping paper, almost drowning in their depths. If you looked closely enough, you would be able to see the faint figure of a Nintendo clutched tightly in his hands. Next to the young boy, trying frantically to dig his nephew out of the suffocating depths of the wrapping paper, was Ian Rider. Jack grinned as she remembered the scene - she had been rolling around on the ground in laughter.

Really, it was a miracle that the picture turned out the way it did, with all her shaking and trembling caused by her fits of laughter.

Jack sighed again as her gaze flickered through all the other photos. Alex's birthday, Alex's maths award, Ian and Alex hugging, a badly beaten ex-boyfriend of Jack's being evicted from the house by Alex and Ian (the last one brought another smile to her face, albeit a sad one).

The years had just flown by so fast.

At one point on the wall, the pictures of Ian disappeared. Jack bit her lip, blinking away the tears. For a year after that point, the pictures of Alex became very sparse. That was when the then fourteen year old boy had been taken advantage of. Though, there was a rather nice photo of the two standing in front of the Sydney Opera House.

Then the pictures returned en masse. Alex's fifteenth, once he'd gotten out of hospital; several of his bandages were still on. Alex with his best friend Tom Harris, their arms slung around each other's shoulder, grinning after their soccer victory. Alex, hiding under his bedcovers while Tom attempted to rouse the boy. The smile on Jack's face grew bigger with each photo. Truth was, after she had seen just how far a certain agency was willing to go in order to use someone for their purposes, she hadn't wasted another precious moment. Her camera, one which Ian had bought her ages ago, was constantly in her hands; she had become so adept at taking photos that people often didn't realise until she showed them the printed copy. It made for great blackmail material, as was evidenced by the photo of Alex midway through pulling a face a the back of a certain blonde haired, Aussie girl. The boy had gotten hell when Jack had shown Dessi the photo.

Jack laughed fondly as she remembered the girl chasing a terrified Alex throughout the house, demanding an explanation. It was one of the few times Jack had seen Dessi act her age. It was a nice change, and though she had been tempted to take a photo of the girl's expression, she had refrained from doing so. Alex had told her about Dessi's status amongst the Espionage world; she didn't want to give them any more info than they already had.

Loud banging on her door interrupted the onpour of memories. Shaking her head slightly, Jack went to open the the door, hoping that it wasn't frozen shut.

"Surprise!"

Jack let out a startled gasp when she took in the mass of people outisde the Rider residence.

A grinning eighteen year old Tom Harris stepped into the house, carefully wiping the snow off his shoes. "Thought we'd keep you company, Jack. It is Christmas after all, and we all know Alex ain't here to fulfill his duty."

"How - What - But - "

"Eloquent as ever," a new voice laughed. Ben Daniels entered, holding a rather large covered dish in his hands. "It's turkey," he said, in response to her questioning look.

"My special recipe!" Rose announced, making herself known. "Ben here, kindly offered to carry the heavy thing."

Ben frowned. "Er...no I didn't. You shoved it into my hands and made me carry it."

"Details, details," Rose dismissed, flapping her hand at him.

"Look, can we come in or not?"

Rose turned with a raised eyebrow, the annoyed look on her face causing the four men left outside to wince.

"Come in, and we'll set up," Ben said, relieving his former team mates from their awkward positions.

One by one, the four trailed in, each lugging with them a large sack of bulky items. The entire unit also carefully avoided Rose's eye.

"What's in those?" Jack asked, eyeing the heaving looking sacks.

"Presents, food, decorations," Rose said, "Everything we need to get a good Chrissy party started. You better put that on the table before you drop it," she added, staring at the dish balanced in Ben's hands.

"It's fine," he said, though his voice came out a bit strained, "Though, yeah, I'll go."

It was amusing how fast the man hurried away.

"Hey, where did we put the tree?" Tom asked, frowning.

"We've got it!" Eagle shouted, dragging a rather reluctant looking Wolf back outside. Shark and Snake both followed, looking rather amused at the pair.

"Should we tell Wolf that there's a misletoe attached to his back?" Jack asked, staring after them.

"Nope," both Rose and Tom answered cheerfully.

"What about the note that says "_Kiss Me_"?" Jack asked.

"Nope," both Rose and Tom answered gleefully.

"You two enjoy teasing the poor man, don't you?"

"Yep," both Rose and Tom answered with identical smirks.

And so it was, that although Alex was off saving the world, and risking his life in the process, Jack managed to actually enjoy that particular Christmas. Rose's special turkey recipe was delicious, the living room looked like a massive tinsle bomb had exploded in it, and the massive tree that had been dragged in sat dead centre in the rooom, blocking the TV and making it impossible for anyone to cross to the other side without being scratched.

Although that actually turned out to be a good thing, Jack thought as she sat on the couch with Rose and Tom, eating popcorn and watching Wolf tear after Eagle, Snake, Shark and Ben with vengence on his face, ignoring their shouts of "it wasn't us!".

At least the tree turned out to be an obstacle that allowed the victims some respite.

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_Hope you've all found presents for your loved ones; I know I haven't,_

_Love Chariots99_


	2. Sandy Linke

_This chapter is set in the future, and as such contains a tad of foreshadowing ;)  
_

_._

Christmas.

The most important things always happened on Christmas. Like her massive eighteenth birthday, her almost out-of-control twenty-first. But then again, she had been born on Christmas day.

Sandy Linke found this perhaps the most amusing irony of her life. Born on the same day as the Saviour of the world. And yet, she had spent the first sixteen years of her life as nothing more than a bully and a flirt.

Oh yes, she knew what she was. It had taken her a while to figure it out, but by the time she had it was already too late. It had taken her a further three years to snap out of the habit of looking down on everyone like they were below her. Like she used to believe they were.

Now she was twenty-four, had moved to Australia for a "fresh start", and was two years away from graduating from medical school. She was single; in fact, she hadn't so much as _looked _at another guy since dropping her previous flirting ways. She was still young; she figured that she would have plenty of time once she'd graduated and began her formal training.

But, like she said, the most important thins always happened on Christmas.

Sandy volunteered at a local orphanage called 'With Open Arms'. She figured it would be a good way to repay society for what she'd done in her first sixteen or so years on the earth. Having no-one to spend Christmas with, she decided to pay the orphanage a visit.

"Hello! Anyone home?" Sandy called as she pushed open the brightly coloured door to the orphanage.

"Sandy!" Came the immediate squeal. A four year old who was far too balanced for his age came racing down the stairs, before flinging himself into Sandy's ready arms.

"How's it going, squirt?" She asked with a laugh.

Bright blue eyes glowed back at her. "It's Christmas!" The little boy shouted, dancing around happily.

"Yes it is," Sandy agreed, "And look what I've brought you!"

The little boy squealed again as Sandy pulled out a neatly wrapped package from her handbag. Accepting the present with thanks, the boy proceeded to rip the wrapping right off, until he was left with one very fluffy koala toy in his hands. Up until that moment, Sandy had been unsure whether the boy would think the toy to be too girly. But then the young boy let out an excited shout, and gave Sandy a hug that was way too tight for comfort.

"Thank you!"

"You're very welcome, Greg" Sandy laughed, extracting herself from the boy's too short arms before taking his hand. "Come on, let's see where everyone else is."

They walked through the brightly coloured halls of the orphanage with the four year old boy, Greg, chatting away excitedly beside her, his Christmas present clutched tightly in his other hand. It was at least five minutes before the boy paused to take a breath, and by then they had entered his shared, though currently empty, room.

"Where is everyone?" Sandy asked.

Greg shrugged. "Outside, I think."

"So why aren't you outside?"

Another shrug. "Didn't feel like it."

"Why not?" Sandy pushed, knowing that something was wrong with the boy, "It's a beautiful day."

"It's too hot," Greg mumbled without conviction.

"Greg, what's wrong?" Sandy asked gently.

Bright blue eyes looked up at her before filling with tears. Almost before she could blink, Sandy found herself with an armful of a crying child.

"Greg! What -?" Sandy exclaimed, surprised.

"It's Will!" The little boy wailed through his tears. Will was one of the boys who shared Greg's room. The two were very close friends, had very similar personalities, and greatly enjoyed driving the orphanage staff up the wall with their pranks. Though Sandy failed to tell the boys that the staff actually found the pranks rather amusing.

"What's wrong with Will?"

"H-h-he," Greg sobbed, "He's getting adopted!"

"Oh."

Sandy wasn't sure what else she could say. On one hand, she was happy for Will, happy that the boy would get a chance of being part of a real family. On the other, it pained her to see how heart broken Greg was.

"Sweetheart, I'm sure the family adopting William will still allow you two to be friends," she said soothingly.

Greg hiccuped a couple of times before looking back up at Sandy. "Do you really think so?"

Sandy bit her lip before nodding. "Yes, I'm sure. I'll even talk to them myself, if you want."

The little boy sniffed, before wiping the tears off his face. "Okay."

"Good. Now come on, let's go find the others so you can have some fun, eh?"

Sandy spent the rest of the day watching Greg and Will enjoy their last moments together. The two boys ran wild, shrieking with laughter, throwing leaves and scruched-up paper balls at each other.

"Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg!" The two boys shouted at the top of their lungs, sliding down the banister while Sandy chased after them, making sure they didn't fall. By the time Sandy left, the two were completely tired out, and were dozing off at the dinner table. She paused only to make sure that they didn't face-plant directly into their dinners.

The sun was setting as Sandy walked home from the orphanage.

"Happy birthday to me," she sang softly to herself, a smile on her face. It had probably been one of the better birthdays of her life.

"Excuse me," a voice suddenly called.

Sandy turned to see a rather handsome man holding up a thin, neon pink envelope.

"You dropped this," he said, handing the envelope over with a faint smile.

"Oh," Sandy blinked a couple of times, before accepting the envelope. It took her a while to recognise it for what it was - a birthday card. One of the older girls at the orphanage had remembered it was her birthday and Christmas, and had decided to make her a card for both events. "Uh...thanks."

"You're welcome," the man smiled. "I couldn't help but overhear what you were singing just now. Not many people are born on Christmas."

"Huh? Oh, right, yeah..." Sandy trailed off, rather embarassed. She thought she had been singing rather sofly; evidently not, if this man had heard.

"Do you not have anyone to celebrate with?"

"Oh, well, not really. I mean, I celebrated at the orphanage. 'With Open Arms'; I volunteer there."

Recognition flashed across the man's eyes. "I had a fr - uh, I used to work with someone who came form that orphanage."

"Really?"

"Yeah..." the man trailed off uncomfortably.

"So...have you celebrated Christmas with anyone?" Sandy asked, changing the subject.

The man smiled. "Not really. Visited an old friend. Don't really have anyone else."

"Do you...I mean...do you want to get a drink?" Sandy bit her lip. Never, in all her life, had she asked a guy out before.

"That'd be nice," the man said with a lopsided grin.

They started walking again, together. The sun sunk lower beneath the horizon, as Sandy led the man to her house. When they finally reached her door, she turned.

"Oh, by the way, my name's Sandy Linke," she said, holding out her hand.

The man's eyes crinkled as he laughed. "Terry. Terry Phillips."

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_Have an awesome leadup to Chrissy! _

_Love Chariots99_


	3. Ben Daniels

**Ben Daniels**

Christmas.

Ever since he was a child, Christmas had always been special. Celebrated. Looked forward to, even more-so than his own birthday. As a grown man, this was no different. The word "Christmas" was always enough to bring a smile to his face, and light into his eyes.

It was something he expected from Alex Rider, or perhaps Eagle. But then again, the teen spy extraordinaire had more important things on his mind than presents, and Eagle well ... almost anything was enough to bring a smile to that man's face. Enough said, really.

Even his own wife, loving and caring, didn't share his joy of Christmas.

Perhaps the one person who came even close was his ex-protégée, Agent Rose Allende. Before Alex, she had been the youngest MI6 agent, so maybe that had played a role.

One year, when Alex was about seventeen, they threw a huge Christmas party, since both felt the need to liven up MI6 Headquarters.

For the entire week leading up to Christmas, it was impossible to walk from one end of the bank to another without stepping on tinsel, walking into fake snowflakes, or finding themselves under a bunch of mistletoe.

The actual party took place on the day after Christmas, to allow the agents to spend the actual day with their families. Unsurprisingly, Mr Blunt chose not to attend, instead holing himself up in his office. Surprisingly, Mrs Jones did attend, filling the entire room with the smell of peppermint.

Alex wasn't there – he was off saving the world again. This time though, the idiot actually _signed up_ for the blasted mission. Unfortunately for him, he'd been partnered with Agent Crawley, whom no-one really liked too much; he was a great agent, but a _really_ boring man.

"I got you a present!" Rose called out, fighting her way through the agents to Ben. In one hand she held a surprisingly well-wrapped gift, in the other a glass of champagne.

"Thank you," Ben said courteously, as the present was shoved rather unceremoniously into his hands. "I think you've had a bit too much to drink."

"Nonsense!" Rose cried, waving her glass around.

Ben sighed, slinging an arm around the obviously drunk woman before leading her over to one of the emptier couches.

"Sit," he ordered.

"Okay, okay!" Rose sat down with a lot of wriggling and fidgeting. "Open your present!"

It was easier said than done. The present had been almost completely covered with sticky tape, making it impossible for Ben to actually rip it open. In the end, he pulled out his pocket knife and slit the thing open.

"Do you like it?"

Ben pulled out a Christmas hat that was obviously handmade, laughing. "I love it. Very creative."

"Here, I made another one for your wife," Rose said, pulling another package out from thin air. "But it's more colourful."

"I'm sure Charlene will be very pleased," Ben smiled, before reaching into his pocket and extracting a small, palm-sized box. "Here. Charlene picked it out, and I paid. So, Merry Christmas from both of us."

Inside the box was a beautiful pendent set on a sparkling silver chain. Rose's mouth dropped in shock as she lifted the necklace out. "Oh, Ben! I love it! Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome," Ben said, as Rose put the necklace on.

"Give Charlene a hug from me."

"I will," Ben smiled. "So, what did you do on Christmas?"

Immediately, the happy smile was wiped off Rose's face. "I visited my parents."

Ben could've kicked himself. With nothing else to say, he settled for an incoherent: "Oh...I see..."

"Yeah," Rose sighed, "Brought them each a Christmas wreath."

"How – how is your dad?" He asked tentatively.

"He's alright. Doing better than last time. He actually remembered my name."

Ben bit his lip. Mr Allende suffered from an extreme form of memory loss, apparently triggered by a massive shock earlier in his life. Mrs Allende had worked for the MI5, and had been killed in the line of duty, several years after Rose had been born. Come to think of it, her death may well have been the trigger for Mr Allende's condition.

"Well, that's good."

"Yeah," Rose smiled briefly. "Anyway, I'm getting another drink. D'you want anything?"

"No thanks."

Rose shrugged before leaving, walking into the wall when she couldn't get her sense of direction right.

Left alone on the couch, Ben just sighed. This was the third year in a row when he'd made the mistake of asking Rose what she did on Christmas. Out in the field, that kind of mistake would probably get him killed.

He really should've learnt by now.

.

_For those who were wondering, no Rose didn't remember the conversation. She was too drunk._

_And I shall update as soon as is humanely possible :)_

_Love Chariots99_


	4. Jacob Wood

**Jacob Wood**

Christmas.

A time of presents, jolly fat men in red suits, cookies and milk. Of mistletoes and tall, pointy trees; decorations of all shapes and colours.

But most of all, of snow.

Having lived in Perth, Australia, for all his youth, Jake had never even seen snow, let alone have it fall at Christmas.

When he was younger, he and his little sister used to clamour and badger their parents to let them go north for the Christmas holidays. But they'd always refused. They were scared of planes, of foreign countries.

Scared of something that they refused to explain.

Jake had been recruited into the AIS at the age of 15. It was then that he'd experienced his first white Christmas, having been sent to Washington, DC. There hadn't been a lot of snow, but it had been enough to keep the teenage boy entranced.

His parents hadn't been too pleased when he'd informed them that he would be leaving. Jessie, his little sister, had been quite annoyed that she wouldn't get to leave, and had demanded he bring back a snowball.

He didn't, and she'd chucked a fit so big, he could've sworn the entire house was shaking in its foundations.

Jake's parents were strongly religious; and though they'd never once tried to convert their children, both Jake and Jessie had been forced to follow their parents to church, since they had been too young to leave at home, and their parents didn't trust babysitters.

He had asked his parents once, why they became religious. They had told him it was to atone for the horrible sins they had committed in their youth, and to please eat his vegetables without changing the subject.

Currently, Jacob Wood was having another white Christmas. They were in Moscow, Russia, and had just tracked down an illegal shipment of weapons. The assault team had taken over from there, leaving the twenty-three year old and his unit at the AIS safe-house in Moscow with nothing to do.

"Jake? Are you alright?"

Startled, Jake turned from his position on the balcony to see Desiree Swan, the youngest member of his unit, peering at him from the doorway, crystal blue eyes confused.

How had she slid open the door without his knowledge?

"Aren't you cold?" He asked instead, watching as the girl wrapped her jacket tighter around her frame.

She snorted. "Says the one who's been standing on the balcony for the past quarter of an hour, _without a coat_."

"Has it been that long?" Jake asked, wonder lacing through his voice. He hadn't felt the cold at all; though now that he thought about it, there may have been a good reason for the fact that he could no longer feel his fingers.

"What are you looking at, anyway?" Desiree asked, coming out onto the balcony and sliding the door shut behind her.

"Nothing really," Jake shrugged, watching his partner shiver in the cold. "Oh, come here," he said, before wrapping an arm around the girl.

"Thanks," Dessi muttered, burying herself deeper against his side, trying to draw in his warmth.

Jake sighed softly, looking out at the snow covered landscape, trying to distract himself from the girl in his arms. Once again, he wished that he hadn't let her go off with what's-his-name at that shopping centre. Maybe then, it might be different ... maybe ...

Shaking his head to rid himself of his wishful thoughts, Jake looked down to see worried blue eyes peering back up at him.

"Are you alright?" She asked again. "You seem quite out of it today."

"I'm fine; just a little tired."

"You should get some rest while you can – Dean left his chocolates unguarded, and Terry's gone and eaten them all. I'm hoping the sugar high won't kick in too soon, but ... "

"Yeah, I see your point," Jake smiled. "Come on, let's go."

There was a moment of peace as he followed the girl back into the safe-house, not knowing that sometime in the near future, he would give up his life to save hers. At that moment, all that mattered was the windswept blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and flushed pink cheeks, lips reddened by the cold, and curved into a carefree smile that would never again reappear on that face.

And then Dean Finley was rushing towards him with a frantic expression, throwing a gun that was clearly Terry's at Dessi, and yelling at the girl to hide it.

Moments later, Terry came tearing into the room, shouting at Dean to return his gun.

Whatever could be said about Christmas, Jake thought as he sprinted off with the gun Dessi had just tossed to him, they certainly weren't dull in the least; especially not with his unit around to spend it with.

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_Is it weird that I did a one-shot from a dead man's perspective? Maybe. But, I'm sure you all saw it coming..._

_Anyways, thanks so much for reading, and __**please **__**REVIEW!**_

_Love Chariots99 xox_


	5. Tom Harris

**Tom Harris**

Christmas.

Maybe when he was younger, the day meant something more. But right now, Christmas was just like any other day, with his parents shouting and dishes crashing.

Tom groaned, rolling around in his bed. Honestly, did they have to start at it so damned _early_?

Here, he was obviously pointedly ignoring the fact that it was well past eleven in the morning...

Not caring that at nineteen, he was possibly too old to be sulking in his bed, he picked up several pillows and shoved them on top of his head. Even that couldn't block the noise out.

Eventually he gave up, and decided to just lie there in the warmth, trying to block out the noise.

_Tap._

_Tap._

What was that?

_Tap._

_Faint shouting. _

_Tap._

It took a while for Tom to realise that someone was calling his name above the dim of his parents' shouting match. It took even longer to realise that the voice didn't belong to his mum or dad.

Pushing aside the pillows, he sat up in bed, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the voice. It seemed to be coming from outside. With a frown, Tom hauled himself out of bed, going to his window and dragging open his curtains. Then, he proceeded to have an almost-heart attack.

The grinning face of one Alex Rider, soon to be ex-best friend, was outside his window.

"Alex!" Tom shouted, hand over his heart, "Don't do that!"

Alex knocked on the window again, before Tom got the message and slid it open.

"Hey Tom," the boy grinned (rather stupidly, in Tom's personal opinion).

"Are you _trying_ to get your best friend killed?" Tom hissed, standing away from the window to let the annoying spy in.

"Eh," Alex shrugged, dusting himself off, "No biggie."

"What are you doing here?" Tom asked, wincing as he heard a couple of plates smash downstairs.

"Rescuing you," Alex grinned. "Come on, get changed! Oh, and maybe you should let your parents know..."

Tom rolled his eyes, before grabbing some clothes and leaving the room. He didn't bother to let his parents know – they probably wouldn't notice his disappearance anyway. Ten minutes later, he'd showered, changed, and brushed his teeth.

"Alright, out the window!" Alex said cheerfully.

"You've got to be kidding me," Tom said, deadpanned.

"Nope! Come on, this'll be fun!"

"I _really_ wish you were still on a mission," Tom muttered, before sticking his head out the window. He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Jack stood outside his house, bundled up against the cold, holding the bottom of a ladder. One which lead right to his bedroom window. When she saw Tom, she beamed so brightly that the surrounding snow seemed to grey.

"Come on, Tom!" She grinned. "Before anyone sees you!"

Grinning despite himself, Tom carefully manoeuvred himself out his window and down the ladder. Obviously deciding to show him up, Alex just jumped out the window.

"Show off," Tom muttered, as Alex stood up, brushing snow off his clothes.

"Alex! What have I told you about performing dangerous stunts like that?" Jack shouted.

"Sorry Jack, couldn't resist," Alex said, folding the ladder up, "Okay, let's roll."

Tom felt his spirit pick up as they made their way back to Alex's house. It was nice, being out in the fresh snow, being the first to imprint their footsteps. And a day without his parent's bickering was always a welcomed change –

_Thump_.

Cold. Wet.

Later, whenever it was brought up, Tom would vehemently deny it. But right there, when that thick snowball slammed into his face, he screamed like a little girl.

The noise sent his definitely ex-friend into fits of laughter.

"Oh, it is on!" Tom growled, scooping up a handful of snow and aiming right for the unguarded spy's nose. Unfortunately, Alex had the bloody reflexes of a ninja, and the snowball was out of the air before he could even blink.

"Nice try," Alex laughed.

"Stupid spy," Tom muttered, before an idea formed slowly in his head. With Alex still lugging the folded (and heavy) ladder, he wouldn't be able to move as fast as Tom...

With a smirk, Tom collected a handful of snow before sneaking up behind the spy. Alex, hearing his approach despite his efforts, half turned around.

"Tom, what are you do – " Alex cut himself off with a strangled cry, literally jumping a foot into the air as Tom shoved a handful of snow down his back. "TOM!"

"Payback's a bitch," Tom smirked, darting out of reach.

"You should've seen that coming," Jack laughed, not doing anything to help Alex, "Seriously, I thought spies were meant to be good at that sort of thing!"

Alex grumbled something under his breath, before hoisting the ladder up for a firmer grip and stalking off. Tom and Jack merely exchanged grins.

"I have the keys," Jack mouthed, jingling the set of keys in her pockets, and causing Tom to double over into a fit of silent laughter.

They found Alex waiting rather impatiently at the front door, stamping his feet to ward off the cold. Jack wordlessly let them in, and the first thing the boy did was to rush to the kitchen to make himself a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

"Get me one too, will you?" Tom said, flopping down onto the couch.

"What am I, your slave?" Nonetheless, his best friend complied, appearing a couple of minutes later with two cups of hot chocolate.

"Thanks," Tom muttered, sipping on his and almost burning his tongue, "So, what're we doing today?"

Alex shrugged. "Meh. What do you want to do?"

"I know!" Jack suddenly interrupted, holding something behind her back, "Why don't we..." She slowly revealed a stack of photo albums.

"No!" Alex groaned, "Not those! Anything but those!"

Unfortunately for him, Tom had already grabbed one of the albums and was more than halfway through the thing. "Lols! Alex, you look so stoned!"

"I was eight," Alex said, deadpanned, "And my uncle _knew_ I hated cameras!"

"Pretty sure he followed you around with that thing for two weeks before you broke it," Jack grinned.

"Yeah, 'coz you wouldn't do anything to stop him!"

"Ya gotta admit Alex, you needed more childhood photos," Tom said, "Your uncle was probably doing you a favour. By the way, is this the spying uncle?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "How many uncles have I had?"

"Eh. You never know with you spies," Tom replied. "Hey, wasn't your dad a spy too?"

"Yes. And before you ask, yes my mum knew. Hey Jack, what's for lunch?" Alex asked suddenly.

"Dunno. I'll have a look and see what we've got left in the fridge," Jack said, dumping the album she was looking at on the table before leaving for the kitchen, with a warning of, "Don't break anything!"

"Hey, look at this picture!" Tom grinned, pulling the photo album Jack was looking at onto his lap. "Remember her?"

"How could I forget?" Alex smiled sadly.

They stared at the photo for a while, both either lost in flashbacks (Alex), or thinking about the delicious five-minute meal Jack was no doubt already planning, and wondering if there was any leftover cake (Tom).

"You know what's funny?" Said Tom suddenly.

"Hm? What?"

"How you've got a dad and an uncle who were spies, and Rose's mum was a spy," Tom said. "What's the bet that Ben's parents and Dessi's parents were spies too?"

"None," Alex said, "Already asked him. His mum was a professor of literature, and his dad had something to do with buildings. Not sure if it was an engineer or architect. And Dessi's an orphan...kinda hard to know what your parents do."

"Oh. Well, maybe there's still a correlation..."

"I'm surprised you know the word 'correlation'," Alex smirked.

"Hey! I know some big words!"

"You sound like Eagle."

Their bickering lasted for two more minutes, before it was thankfully ended by Jack's shout of "Lunch is served!" Otherwise the ensuing fight would more than likely have broken something.

.

_Love Chariots99_


	6. Dean Finley

**Dean Finley**

Christmas.

Shopping. Screaming kids. Sales that really weren't sales. The pressure of trying to figure out what to give one's wife and kids.

Yeah, not exactly the best time for Dean, and not the part he focussed on the most.

If he were asked to describe the things he felt were most important at Christmas, he wouldn't have said the presents or the pudding or the massive and highly prickly Christmas tree he was forced to put up year after year.

He would've said the joy of knowing he'd survived.

In his mind, it was during the Christmases that people matured, rather than during their birthdays. The presents his children asked for became less childish with each Christmas. His wife's cooking seemed to increase tenfold with each Christmas.

And then of course, there was his job.

As one of the older field agents still employed by the AIS, Dean had been through a fair share of partners and units. Starting from the bottom, like everyone does, he'd quickly worked his way up the rankings. His first partner had been killed, his second transferred. Third had been a man who'd had his entire leg blown off - the AIS had given him a massive amount of compensation.

His fourth partner had turned out to be a traitor; he'd been assassinated.

It wasn't until he'd been partnered with newcomer Terry Phillips that he'd found a permanent partner. The two had a strange connection, almost like they could read each other's minds, and predict the other's movements. As a result, the partnership had catapulted them both into Unit One.

At the time, Unit One had been lead by Keagan Johansson, a man whom they'd all teased by calling "Meagan-Keagan". He hadn't minded; in fact, one April Fools' he'd walked around with a massive wide brimmed hat, onto which he'd ironed the name "Meagan".

But it was Keagan's field partner who really clicked with Dean and Terry.

Jacob Wood, a boy who had only been sixteen years old, had managed to dump an entire can-full of bright, neon pink paint, onto Terry's head after he'd messed around with Jake's shampoo, which had turned the boy's hair blue.

And it was Jake who went on to become the leader of Unit One when Keagan had been killed on a mission gone wrong.

Though neither Dean nor Terry had questioned the Director when he'd made Jake leader - they both knew just how good that kid was - they did question his sanity when the Director partnered seventeen year old Jake up with a twelve year old girl. Apparently, the two knew each other since Jake's parents were friends with Desiree's foster parents. But that didn't seem like very good grounds to put a bloody twelve year old into Unit One.

In retrospect, Dean thought that perhaps he'd been too harsh on the girl. They all had, even Jake.

But when she continued to prove herself, over and over again, a grudging respect began to build. Respect that quickly turned into something more. Soon, the unit became cemented; it was rumoured that the four of them made the best Unit One since the unit of 1992 (all four of whom had died following a poisonous gas leak that had been identified far too late).

With each Christmas that passed, Dean saw the girl grow and mature in more ways than one. The innocence of those crystal blue eyes became lost, replaced with the look of one who understood the harsh realities of life. Her vocabulary grew too, expanding to include swears and other espionage terminology. And like his own daughter, who became more and more fixated around makeup and clothes, Desiree too found something that would consume her attention for hours on end.

Unfortunately for Dean, her newfound fixation was throwing knives.

It was all Jake's fault, really. That bloody idiot just had to be a show off in front of the girl. If Dean didn't know better, he would've sworn that he had a crush on her.

"Dean! Glad you finally made it!"

Noises, chaos, and loud music assaulted Dean's senses the moment he walked into the thoroughly transformed "D Block". Unit two were on a mission (those poor, unfortunate souls) so Jake and Dessi, as the only two to permanent reside there (Dessi more so than Jake), had the entire building to themselves.

Which was never a good idea.

Bright lights hung amidst an explosion of sparkly tinsel and colourful paper decorations, all of which Dean suspected were handmade by Jake and Dessi. There was no Christmas tree - which would have been classified as a security risk according to the Director. However, there was snow.

Improvised, paper snow. And lots of it.

"Where on earth did you two get so much paper to punch?" Dean asked, looking at the "snow" in awe. For it was really the remnants of hole-punched paper floating around like confetti.

"Oh, we didn't do this," Jake laughed, having been the one who'd greeted Dean at the door, "Dessi went and raided the secretary's office and emptied out all their hole-punchers. We've still got seven bagfuls of the stuff locked away. You can take some home, if you like."

"Thanks, but I don't think my wife would appreciate that very much," Dean said dryly.

He spotted Terry in the corner, talking to Desiree. Or rather, Terry in the corner wearing a very confused look on his face as Dessi attempted to convey some sort of meaning with her words.

"Are you still making her talk in French?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah," Jake laughed, "And she will be, until someone can understand her."

"I thought you only made her talk in French to embarrass her in front of that Alex kid," Dean said, watching as Jake turned a rather interesting shade of red, before he decided to let that one go. "So she's actually allowed to talk now?"

"The doctor reckons so," Jake shrugged, "And even if that wasn't the case, I saw her talking at the airport. She's not getting away that easily."

"Ah. Punishment." Though Jake was a great leader, caring and compassionate, he had a tendency to hand out harsh punishments when an order wasn't followed.

Especially if that order came from a doctor.

"_Dean! You came!"_ Dessi suddenly bounded up, a highly confused Terry following in her wake.

"Er..." Dean said, glancing at Jake for a translation. When it became obvious that the man was putting most of his energy into not laughing, and would be of no help whatsoever, Dean gave Dessi an uncertain smile. "Hi Dessi ... Merry Christmas."

"_You don't understand me either, do you?"_

"Um ... I'm sorry, what?" Dean exchanged looks with Terry, who looked just as mystified.

Dessi growled, shooting Jake a deadly glare before storming off. Dean watched as Jake bit his lip anxiously, staring after his field partner.

"You should go talk to her," Terry said. Dean nodded his agreement, and Jake ran off after the girl, shooting the two an apologetic look over his shoulder.

"Those two are like a married couple," Dean mused.

Terry snorted. "Don't ever let them hear you say that."

"Yeah – hey, what're they doing?"

"Is that ... did Jake just give Dessi a knife?" Terry asked weakly. "As a Christmas present? A knife?"

"That's what I saw too ... "

The two exchanged panicked looks, before they hurriedly ducked and sprinted out the door. And not a moment too soon, for a moment later two knives embedded themselves into the doorframe, courtesy of Dessi and Jake.

Dean and Terry spent the next six months as target practice. He was extremely thankful that both Jake and Dessi had good hand-eye coordination, so those knives never actually nicked skin.

.

_Hehehe...yep, that's where Dessi's knife came from :)_

_Love Chariots99_


End file.
